The Parents' Review

A Monthly Magazine of Home-Training and Culture

"Education is an atmosphere, a discipline, a life."
______________________________________

Children's Holidays

by Leila PayneVolume 43, no. 2, February 1932, pgs. 117-119

IV

(in Canada)

A friend made an experiment, of running a camp in Canada in accord with
Miss Mason's ideas, for other people's children as well as our own.

Our numbers have varied through the summer, between ten and thirteen
children, aged from five to fourteen.

We do not amuse them. We have no "big" boys and girls, no
"counsellors," to play with the little ones and "keep them happy." The
children have freedom to do what they wish within their boundaries,
which, as a matter of interest, have never been broken. Nothing is
compulsory, except punctuality at meals, and quiet during rest hour and
between going to sleep and waking up signalsif to-day a small person
prefers to build a sand house or to carry on domestic affairs high in
the old willow, instead of swimming with the rest of the world, no one
interferes.

The children brought no playthings, except perhaps a beloved doll or
teddy-bear which might have been lonely without its small parent. But
each was given a big wooden spoon, a ball, a nature note book and a
paint box, and there is a constant succession of interests, in which
grown-ups have had no share, except that of interested spectators, such
interests as houses of sand and wood, shops of wild flowers and
berries, plays acted and managed by the children alone, athletic
"stunts," an Indian dance or two, all of course out of doors, for
except to sleep in the tents we have lived entirely in the open for ten
weeks, even rain only keeps us under canvas for a little while.

Every child is quite at home in the water, and can dive and swima few
strokes only for the fives and sixesand manage a flat-bottomed boat
alone and efficientlyand nothing has been taught, it has all been
acquired almost unconsciously and most joyfully.

Everyone is clothed alike, a leaf-brown sun-suit and big straw hat for
ten and under, the bigger boys, brown shorts and sleeveless vest, all
bare legs and feet.

There are no badges, competitions or comparisons. All help with the
camp "chores," dish-washing is shared with our jolly dietician by the
several tens and over in turn.

The Pukwudjis (seven and under) help to lay the table (scrubbed boards
on trestles), and each one has its own responsibility, of honey, salt,
napkins, etc. Everyone clears and neatly stacks his own plate, cup, and
cutlery, makes his bed and keeps his part of the tent tidy.

We sleep in tents with wooden floors, the big boys in teepees, we eat
under a fly-sheet in all weathers, if it is very wet we wear
mackintoshes.

We have no trouble over quarrelling. The children play alone and
unsupervised for hours, contentedly and co-operatively.

They rest daily from one to three o'clock, with books if over seven,
each on a blanket in the shade; we sleep if we can, if not, and we do
not belong to the age that can read, we watch trees and grass and
caterpillars.

There is no excited screaming, but a quiet, busy peacefulness, or else,
at times, wholesome romping.

The children all come from well-to-do homes, and many were nervous and
troublesome; at home, some unable to sleep; some "unable to eat" this
or that, but now we are all hungry and eager for second helpings of
nearly everything.

Among the campers are a puppy and three kittens, and for two weeks we
were really completewith a sixteen-month baby boy, who took kindly to
camping, and sat in a high-chair made out of a large barrel.

Wethe grown-upshad made various plans while preparing for camp, but
these were discarded as we found the children required even less
organisation than we had expected, and there are no classes, just
restful leaving-alone, until we are wanted.

We have reading aloud.

We ruled out all trashy books and so-called "funny" papers, and at
first our choice was not entirely popular, but if there is nothing else
to read, you at last take what there is, and our plan has proved its
worth, one ten-year-old has read fourteen books, but did not quite
finish The Prince and the Pauper before leaving, so was going to get it
when she went home. Our big boys have read, at first reluctantly, later
with keen enjoyment, Macbeth, Julius Caesar and The Merchant of Venice.

Our Pukwudjis have listened to the holiday books from the P.N.E.U.
programmes and other classics.

On Sundays we listen to the life of one of the Scripture heroes, read
from the Bible, and morning and evening we read a few verses. The
children enjoy their "pi" reading, and would not miss.

We insist on courtesy, looking after the other fellow at meals, and
cleanliness of person, only one layer of dirt is allowed! Gentle voices
are required, that the fairies and the creatures may not be disturbed.

All the children are hard as nails, brown as Indians, and have a
beautiful carriagepokes, stoops and round shoulders have disappeared. A
favourite "stunt" is to walk with a cup of water on the head and not to
spill a drop.

Our nature lore is not scientific, most of the books have a rather
smudgy appearance, but we have watched turtles coming out of the lake
and climbing a steep bank to lay their eggs; we scamper excitedly to
see a new toadstool which has appeared since last night; we are very
proud of a hermit thrush who visits us occasionally, and of our cat
bird friend who always joins our "pi." We thrill at the sunset colours
of an empty clam shell, and the clam shell colours of the sunset sky,
and we inveigle a passing grown-up to help us find the Pole Star and
Vega, the Scorpion and the Milky Way, when we should have been asleep
long ago. And we lie on our tummies and watch a beetle or a tiger moth,
and love them, even if we don't know much of their private life.